I just finished another chapter. I had this one half-written months ago but just had a mental block on how to close it out. This is a follow-up to A ROOKIE MISTAKE posted above.
A TEACHING MOMENT
“Me no understand,” Petty Officer Felix Tawny shook his furry head, which caused his thick mane to fluff out.
Lieutenant Michael Cassidy looked down at the diminutive creature and sighed. Cassidy was shorter than the average human male, standing only 165 centimeters, and yet he towered over the Senji electrician. The crew called him ‘Father Mike’ or ‘Padre’, but in fact he was only a lay minister, not ordained. His official duty title on the ship was Director of Services, meaning he oversaw everything that provides for the morale and needs of the crew, such as the mess hall, the gymnasium, the laundry services, and the recreation facilities. And of course, the chapel. He began to explain again what he wanted them to do.
“Me understand what you want,” Felix interrupted, “colored lights on open wire hung on wall. Me no understand why you want colored lights on wall.”
Father Mike smiled. “Because it will be Christmas soon,” as if that was all the explanation required. And to a human, it probably would have been. Not so for the Senji. Although highly intelligent, Felix’s kind had but three decades’ experience with humans and their strange customs.
Star Fleet first charted Felix’s homeworld over fifty years ago, during one of the so-called Expansion Wars. It was one of many Class-M planets that were logged, deemed to be of little strategic value, and promptly ignored. A survey team was sent after the war. They spent ten days cataloging plants and animals, apparently transplanted from Earth, Vulcan, Andoria, and other core worlds some twenty-five thousand years ago. Their report stated there was no intelligent life, noting that some “very clever monkeys” had learned to make fire. They dubbed the planet Senja (Malaysian for Twilight), legally classified it as a ’pristine world’, and quickly forgot about it as nothing more than a scientific curiosity.
Thirty-two years ago, a civilian cargo ship was forced to land on Senja to make emergency repairs. They too encountered the “clever little monkeys”, and further determined they were related to marmosets, the so-called ‘finger monkeys’ from Earth’s South American region, only much, much larger, standing between one-point-two to one-point-five meters tall. Imagine the humans’ surprise when the creatures began to speak in broken-English. The Senji aren’t just “very clever” but rather are highly intelligent sapient beings.
In three short decades, the Senji developed from hunter-gatherer family clans who had just mastered fire-making to a vibrant, highly advanced society. When the Star Fleet first contact team arrived, the Senji were semi-nomadic; they created rudimentary stone tools and lived in simple shelters built in trees, left behind when they moved on. With Star Fleet’s guidance, the Senji built permanent settlements, innovative transportation networks, and efficient agriculture. Together, they designed the most ecologically friendly technology base in the Federation space, using geothermal and wind power to generate electricity. Senja was still classified as a pristine world, and its inhabitants were determined to keep it that way, even at the expense of many creature comforts (no pun intended) otherwise available to them.
The Senji, it was discovered, on average had a higher IQ than most Humans, even rivaling that of Vulcans. They seemed to have a natural aptitude for the STEM disciplines (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics), but they found many Human rituals and traditions to be unfathomably alien concepts. Holidays in particular made no sense to them; why should one day be any different from any other day?
Felix had heard about Christmas and Easter, of course, but he simply could not understand why Humans celebrated the birth and death of someone who lived over two thousand years ago. “You had lights before? You have images?”
Father Mike showed him the image on his PADD. “This was last year,” he explained. “When the ship was in port for maintenance, they removed the power sockets we plugged the lights into. The question is, can you put them back?”
“Yah-yah, easy done,” Felix replied. Felix took a small electrician’s tricorder from his vest pocket and scanned the wall. “Can tap into power source over there,” he pointed to the corner. He turned to his two assistants, “Smith, you just from school. How you do this?”
The young Boatswain’s Mate blinked in surprise; wasn’t Felix there to teach them, he thought. He tapped his knuckle on the wall. “Well, this is a standard non-load bearing partition, so we can pull the panels off, run the lines, and put the panels back. You want the receptacles about this high, sir,” Smith indicated about two meters up.
Father Mike nodded in agreement. “That would be perfect. I have a meeting to get to but do give me a shout of you need anything else,” he said and made an odd gesture with both hands touching, palms up and fingers spread open. Felix mirrored the gesture with a smile, and Father Mike departed to allow the technicians work.
Smith examined the wall closer. “The plates along the bottom have punch-outs for sockets. We can pop a couple plates and swap them with plates up here. That way we don’t need to cut new holes.”
“Yah-yah,” Felix agreed, bobbing his head. “Good plan. Have tools, do you?” Both men displayed their tool belts. “Good. Set up worktable there. Will need step ladder and support stands to hold wall panels. Smith, you go, bring back.”
Petty Officer Craig Smith shrugged, “Don’t really need supports. Just swing the panel out like a door on hinges.”
“No-no-no,” Felix shook his head. “Safety officer not like that. And risk damage to wall. Must use supports. Off you go.” He turned to the other man, “Hunter, we start making cables. Set up table.”
Petty Officer James Hunter unfolded the worktable while the diminutive Felix set up a step stool for himself. As Hunter began to lay tools out on the table, Felix cut a couple meters of heavy-gauge electrical wire off the spool, looped it around his neck, and picked up a box full of outlet sockets. Hunter took the box and hefted it onto the table; that’s when he realized that Felix Tawny was a lot stronger than the humans thought, for that box must have been a good thirty-five kilos or more.
Felix surveyed the table and made some quiet chittering sounds ending in a heavy sigh. He looked over at Hunter. “Show me splice cable,” he said, handing the human two pieces of wire.
Confused, Hunter took the wires and asked, “Do we have any auto-splice connectors? I didn’t see any in the box.” The devices he asked for would slip over the end of the cable and clamp on, conductors digging through the insulation into the wires. Once one was attached to each cable, the electrician could plug them together, allowing them to snap tight.
Felix shook his head. “They not teach how splice wire at school?”
“Well, ah,” Hunter stammered, “just once. They had us do one splice, but they said we’d never have to do it on the job. We have the auto-splicers.”
“What if no have?” Felix asked seriously. “What if no time to go get? Cable cut,” he picked the wires up, “shields down, Klingons coming. No shields, ship go boom. Everyone dies. Must fix now.” He motioned for Hunter to do the task.
Three short minutes later, Hunter smiled as he presented the spliced cable for inspection. He knew the heat-shrink insulators could have been done better, but he was sure all three twisted-wire connections would hold. Felix chittered to himself and sighed. “Good time. Faster than expected.”
Hunter’s smile faded. “I sense a ‘but’ coming.” He looked at his handiwork. “Okay, what did I do wrong?” His tone wasn’t defensive, but rather open and receptive to criticism.
Felix nodded. “First, workspace. Too many tools. This main tool, used most for job,” he picked up a wire cutter/stripper, “goes here,” he laid it to the right side of the working area, not too close to the edge of the table. “All other tools go in belt. Use tool, then back in belt.” He demonstrated by pulling one tool from his belt, imitated using it, then replacing it, and repeated with a different tool. “Tool in hand or tool in belt, no place else. If no in belt, can lose tools. Tool lost, no can work.”
He picked up the cutters, “if no table, this goes in belt too. Always. Tool in hand or tool in belt, no place else,” he repeated for emphasis. “In belt same place, every time. You need tool, no look, find tool. Same place.” He reached without looking. “Cutters.” He grabbed the wire cutters, held them up, and returned them to his belt. “Screwdriver,” he said, showing that tool, again without looking. “Tool in belt, same place, every time.”
James Hunter nodded as he began gathering his tools and replacing them on his work belt, carefully paying attention to which pocket each one went into. “What if I need a tool that’s not on my belt? Or one that’s too big to fit in the belt?”
“Yah-yah, good question,” Felix smiled. “Hope for you yet. Put toolbox there,” he indicated the left corner of the worktable, “and put tool by box.” He picked up the spliced cable. “Problem here. Wire beside other, may touch. Zizt-zizt. No good. Me show better way. First, biggest mistake.” He retrieved a small test wand from his belt. “You not check for power. Zizt-Zizt. You die. No shields, ship go boom. Everyone dies.” Hunter’s eyes went wide at the thought of being electrocuted for a simple mistake.
Holding the wire and the tester in his left hand, Felix picked up the wire strippers and cutter on either side of the Hunters splice. He then made a show of using the test wand before returning it to his belt. “Always check power. Zizt-zizt hurt. No power, no hurt.” He cut and stripped the wires, but unlike what Hunter did, Felix cut the white wire shorter on one cable, the black wire shorter on the other, and the red wire in between. Hunter noticed how he twisted the wires together in a more secure manner, making him doubt his own attempt. He saw how the three connection points were staggered, eliminating the risk of short circuiting the cable, and how clean the heat-shrink was applied. Start to finish, Felix Tawny was done in forty seconds flat.
Craig Smith returned with a handy truck loaded with support stands and a ladder. Hunter helped him set up the ladder and prepare the stands. Smith went over to the wall, knelt down, and used a sensor wand, not unlike a stud finder, to locate the hidden fasteners. When he located the first one, he laid the wand on the floor and used an electro-magnetic screwdriver to turn it a half rotation. There was an audible click. He laid the screwdriver on the floor and picked up the sensor wand.
“Ah, Craig,” Hunter whispered, “you need to put those back in your tool belt when you’re not using them.”
“I am using them,” Smith muttered.
“Well, no, I mean, Petty Officer Tawny told me, ‘Tool in hand or tool in belt, no place else.’ He seemed serious about it.”
Smith shook his head in annoyance as he moved up the wall, locating the next hidden fastener, “That sounds like a waste of time.” He laid the wand on the floor again. Hunter just threw his hands up and back away.
Felix walked over, shaking his head and chittering to himself. “No tool on floor,” he declared. “Tool in hand or tool in belt, no place else.” Hunter gave Smith the ‘I told you so’ look. Smith shrugged as he placed the wand in his belt. As soon as Felix turned away, Smith gave Hunter a dirty look. He stood up and continued moving up the wall, unlocking the fasteners.
“Hunter, you measure,” Felix ordered. “Power box there,” he pointed in the corner near the floor, “on off go there,” he pointed to a spot about 1.5 meters up, “then to one, two, three, four sockets for colored lights,” he indicated the locations. “Add one meter for slack, cut cable.”
As Hunter started measuring up the wall, he remembered something from his childhood. “My dad like to build things, you know, woodworking stuff. He always told me, ‘Measure twice, cut once’. I assume it’s the same here.”
Felix squeaked out a happy noise. “Yah-yah. Dad wise. Measure twice, cut once. Good saying. I use now on.” There was a metal-on-metal clank. He turned his head to see Smith had laid the sensor wand down on the ladder step and picked up the screwdriver. “Hey, you no listen. Told you, tool in hand or tool in belt, no place else. That fall, break, you no able to work, job no get done.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Smith grumbled as he put the device back in his tool belt.
Felix shook his head. “No ‘ficient. Have two hands. One tool each hand.” He took the tools from Smith and demonstrated using the wand in his left and the screwdriver in his right, unlocking three fasteners within his reach. He handed the tools back to Smith. “You try.” Smith did as he was instructed and nodded, begrudgingly acknowledging that this method worked better.
Felix returned his attention to Hunter who was in the process of pulling cable off the spool. “Sixteen meters should do it,” he said and began explaining how he arrived at that length when they heard the sound of metal clanking and a bonk followed by a loud slamming noise, then Craig Smith left out a string of cuss words. He was down on one knee, one hand holding the ladder, which was tipped up on two legs, and the other hand holding the top of his head. “You okay, man?” Hunter asked with concern as he steadied the ladder.
“Do I look okay?” Smith snapped. “I was trying to pry the wall panel open and backed into the ladder.” At first, Hunter thought the ladder fell on his friend, but then he noticed the sensor wand laying on the floor, obviously broken. The screwdriver was nowhere in sight. It wasn’t hard to figure out that Smith laid one or both tools on the top step of the ladder, and that’s what hit him on the head.
Petty Officer Felix examined Smith’s head while making chittering noises that sounded like ‘tisk tisk tisk’, reminding Smith of his grandmother whenever he skinned his knee as a kid. “No blood,” Felix announced, “but you see medic, must doc’ment all hurts. Also, safety officer want report, you write.” He pulled out his electrician’s tricorder and scanned the wall. “No damage, fas’ners all locked.” He began to chitter in a very annoyed tone. He faced Smith. “Tool behind wall. Need another tool now.”
Felix walked over to the comm unit on the wall. Hunter looked at Smith. “Tool in hand or tool in belt.”
“No place else,” they both said. “Yeah,” Smith quipped, “I got it. I learned my lesson. I won’t do that again.”
“Until next time. You always had to learn things the hard way,” Hunter pointed out. “Remember back in tenth grade chemistry class?” Smith suddenly found his feet interesting. He looked up at the sound of the door opening, then nudged Hunter with his elbow and lifted his chin to point at the person walking into the room.
Hunter had to do a double take; Smith wasn’t kidding earlier. The basket weave or beehive hairdo was the latest trend, and Petty Officer Shaw had the biggest beehive he’d ever seen on any woman’s head. Most beehives were ten to twelve centimeters high; hers was at least twenty centimeters tall. Hunter wondered how long her hair would be if she let it down. He looked away quickly so she wouldn’t catch him staring at her; that would be awkward.
With a smile that reached her eyes, she asked with a hint of laughter, “What do we have here, little boys who can’t handle their tools?” Her voice carried a soft accent and a musical lilt that convinced Hunter he could listen to her read the dictionary aloud.
Petty Officer Felix’s head snapped up. “Hey, now! Told you before. No more talk like that. Men no allowed, so you no allowed.” The smile disappeared in an instant. “You bring more tools, yes?” She handed him the bag she had slung over one shoulder. Felix retrieved a new sensor wand and screwdriver from the bag and handed them to Smith. “Do again. Do right.” he ordered, pointing at the wall.
Shaw stepped over beside Hunter as they watched Smith begin unlocking the hidden fasteners. Without looking at Hunter, she reached up and began feeling her hair. “Just checking. Did something fall out of place?” she asked him with playful amusement. He turned beet-red with embarrassment. So, she did catch him staring.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “My kid sister is trying that style but can’t seem to get it right.”
“Her hair’s probably not long enough. It has to be at least to her waist to get a decent basket weave going. And I know you want to ask, because everyone wants to ask, how long is my hair? I’ve never cut it since I was seven, so if I don’t put it up I would walk on it.” Her explanation only made him want to ask more questions, like why did she let her hair grow so long in the first place? Was it a religious thing he’d never heard of?
“I’m James, by the way.” He extended his hand.
“Alyssa,” she replied with a little smile, taking his hand. Hunter found her hand was as warm and soft as her voice. She saw Smith was trying to pry the wall panel open. “Ah, you didn’t unlock the ones across the top,” she pointed.
Smith realized that was his mistake the first time, which was why it wouldn’t open for him, but didn’t want to admit it. Without a word, he climbed the ladder and worked his way along the ceiling. A minute later, he climbed down and easily opened the wall. With Shaw’s help, he placed the support stands to keep it upright.
The electricians discovered the old outlet boxes were still in place, but Felix critiqued the wiring job and found it unacceptable. He showed Hunter all the things wrong with it and explained how it should have been done. They had it rewired within ten minutes, while Smith and Shaw moved the panels with the punch-outs to the right level, and then opened the next wall segment. As the electricians moved to that section, the two boatswains closed and secured the first segment. They repeated the process for the third and final wall segment.
When they finished, Felix told Smith to put a single bulb in each socket and flip the switch, confirming the work was done right. “Good work. Now clean up. Put tools away.” Felix announced. He handed the tool bag back to Shaw, “Thank you. You can go now.” He turned back to Smith, “You go see medic when done. Write safety report, give to me in morning.”
As they gathered up everything, Smith said, “Man, I’m starving. Let’s go grab chow.”
Hunter shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t, dude. I have a date,” he replied as he headed for the door pushing the hand truck loaded down with boxes and the table.
Felix let out a noise that could only be laughter. “Smith, you have lot to learn.”
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~
P.S> You may want to read my not-short story SO CLEVER (link in signature).
A TEACHING MOMENT
“Me no understand,” Petty Officer Felix Tawny shook his furry head, which caused his thick mane to fluff out.
Lieutenant Michael Cassidy looked down at the diminutive creature and sighed. Cassidy was shorter than the average human male, standing only 165 centimeters, and yet he towered over the Senji electrician. The crew called him ‘Father Mike’ or ‘Padre’, but in fact he was only a lay minister, not ordained. His official duty title on the ship was Director of Services, meaning he oversaw everything that provides for the morale and needs of the crew, such as the mess hall, the gymnasium, the laundry services, and the recreation facilities. And of course, the chapel. He began to explain again what he wanted them to do.
“Me understand what you want,” Felix interrupted, “colored lights on open wire hung on wall. Me no understand why you want colored lights on wall.”
Father Mike smiled. “Because it will be Christmas soon,” as if that was all the explanation required. And to a human, it probably would have been. Not so for the Senji. Although highly intelligent, Felix’s kind had but three decades’ experience with humans and their strange customs.
Star Fleet first charted Felix’s homeworld over fifty years ago, during one of the so-called Expansion Wars. It was one of many Class-M planets that were logged, deemed to be of little strategic value, and promptly ignored. A survey team was sent after the war. They spent ten days cataloging plants and animals, apparently transplanted from Earth, Vulcan, Andoria, and other core worlds some twenty-five thousand years ago. Their report stated there was no intelligent life, noting that some “very clever monkeys” had learned to make fire. They dubbed the planet Senja (Malaysian for Twilight), legally classified it as a ’pristine world’, and quickly forgot about it as nothing more than a scientific curiosity.
Thirty-two years ago, a civilian cargo ship was forced to land on Senja to make emergency repairs. They too encountered the “clever little monkeys”, and further determined they were related to marmosets, the so-called ‘finger monkeys’ from Earth’s South American region, only much, much larger, standing between one-point-two to one-point-five meters tall. Imagine the humans’ surprise when the creatures began to speak in broken-English. The Senji aren’t just “very clever” but rather are highly intelligent sapient beings.
In three short decades, the Senji developed from hunter-gatherer family clans who had just mastered fire-making to a vibrant, highly advanced society. When the Star Fleet first contact team arrived, the Senji were semi-nomadic; they created rudimentary stone tools and lived in simple shelters built in trees, left behind when they moved on. With Star Fleet’s guidance, the Senji built permanent settlements, innovative transportation networks, and efficient agriculture. Together, they designed the most ecologically friendly technology base in the Federation space, using geothermal and wind power to generate electricity. Senja was still classified as a pristine world, and its inhabitants were determined to keep it that way, even at the expense of many creature comforts (no pun intended) otherwise available to them.
The Senji, it was discovered, on average had a higher IQ than most Humans, even rivaling that of Vulcans. They seemed to have a natural aptitude for the STEM disciplines (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics), but they found many Human rituals and traditions to be unfathomably alien concepts. Holidays in particular made no sense to them; why should one day be any different from any other day?
Felix had heard about Christmas and Easter, of course, but he simply could not understand why Humans celebrated the birth and death of someone who lived over two thousand years ago. “You had lights before? You have images?”
Father Mike showed him the image on his PADD. “This was last year,” he explained. “When the ship was in port for maintenance, they removed the power sockets we plugged the lights into. The question is, can you put them back?”
“Yah-yah, easy done,” Felix replied. Felix took a small electrician’s tricorder from his vest pocket and scanned the wall. “Can tap into power source over there,” he pointed to the corner. He turned to his two assistants, “Smith, you just from school. How you do this?”
The young Boatswain’s Mate blinked in surprise; wasn’t Felix there to teach them, he thought. He tapped his knuckle on the wall. “Well, this is a standard non-load bearing partition, so we can pull the panels off, run the lines, and put the panels back. You want the receptacles about this high, sir,” Smith indicated about two meters up.
Father Mike nodded in agreement. “That would be perfect. I have a meeting to get to but do give me a shout of you need anything else,” he said and made an odd gesture with both hands touching, palms up and fingers spread open. Felix mirrored the gesture with a smile, and Father Mike departed to allow the technicians work.
Smith examined the wall closer. “The plates along the bottom have punch-outs for sockets. We can pop a couple plates and swap them with plates up here. That way we don’t need to cut new holes.”
“Yah-yah,” Felix agreed, bobbing his head. “Good plan. Have tools, do you?” Both men displayed their tool belts. “Good. Set up worktable there. Will need step ladder and support stands to hold wall panels. Smith, you go, bring back.”
Petty Officer Craig Smith shrugged, “Don’t really need supports. Just swing the panel out like a door on hinges.”
“No-no-no,” Felix shook his head. “Safety officer not like that. And risk damage to wall. Must use supports. Off you go.” He turned to the other man, “Hunter, we start making cables. Set up table.”
Petty Officer James Hunter unfolded the worktable while the diminutive Felix set up a step stool for himself. As Hunter began to lay tools out on the table, Felix cut a couple meters of heavy-gauge electrical wire off the spool, looped it around his neck, and picked up a box full of outlet sockets. Hunter took the box and hefted it onto the table; that’s when he realized that Felix Tawny was a lot stronger than the humans thought, for that box must have been a good thirty-five kilos or more.
Felix surveyed the table and made some quiet chittering sounds ending in a heavy sigh. He looked over at Hunter. “Show me splice cable,” he said, handing the human two pieces of wire.
Confused, Hunter took the wires and asked, “Do we have any auto-splice connectors? I didn’t see any in the box.” The devices he asked for would slip over the end of the cable and clamp on, conductors digging through the insulation into the wires. Once one was attached to each cable, the electrician could plug them together, allowing them to snap tight.
Felix shook his head. “They not teach how splice wire at school?”
“Well, ah,” Hunter stammered, “just once. They had us do one splice, but they said we’d never have to do it on the job. We have the auto-splicers.”
“What if no have?” Felix asked seriously. “What if no time to go get? Cable cut,” he picked the wires up, “shields down, Klingons coming. No shields, ship go boom. Everyone dies. Must fix now.” He motioned for Hunter to do the task.
Three short minutes later, Hunter smiled as he presented the spliced cable for inspection. He knew the heat-shrink insulators could have been done better, but he was sure all three twisted-wire connections would hold. Felix chittered to himself and sighed. “Good time. Faster than expected.”
Hunter’s smile faded. “I sense a ‘but’ coming.” He looked at his handiwork. “Okay, what did I do wrong?” His tone wasn’t defensive, but rather open and receptive to criticism.
Felix nodded. “First, workspace. Too many tools. This main tool, used most for job,” he picked up a wire cutter/stripper, “goes here,” he laid it to the right side of the working area, not too close to the edge of the table. “All other tools go in belt. Use tool, then back in belt.” He demonstrated by pulling one tool from his belt, imitated using it, then replacing it, and repeated with a different tool. “Tool in hand or tool in belt, no place else. If no in belt, can lose tools. Tool lost, no can work.”
He picked up the cutters, “if no table, this goes in belt too. Always. Tool in hand or tool in belt, no place else,” he repeated for emphasis. “In belt same place, every time. You need tool, no look, find tool. Same place.” He reached without looking. “Cutters.” He grabbed the wire cutters, held them up, and returned them to his belt. “Screwdriver,” he said, showing that tool, again without looking. “Tool in belt, same place, every time.”
James Hunter nodded as he began gathering his tools and replacing them on his work belt, carefully paying attention to which pocket each one went into. “What if I need a tool that’s not on my belt? Or one that’s too big to fit in the belt?”
“Yah-yah, good question,” Felix smiled. “Hope for you yet. Put toolbox there,” he indicated the left corner of the worktable, “and put tool by box.” He picked up the spliced cable. “Problem here. Wire beside other, may touch. Zizt-zizt. No good. Me show better way. First, biggest mistake.” He retrieved a small test wand from his belt. “You not check for power. Zizt-Zizt. You die. No shields, ship go boom. Everyone dies.” Hunter’s eyes went wide at the thought of being electrocuted for a simple mistake.
Holding the wire and the tester in his left hand, Felix picked up the wire strippers and cutter on either side of the Hunters splice. He then made a show of using the test wand before returning it to his belt. “Always check power. Zizt-zizt hurt. No power, no hurt.” He cut and stripped the wires, but unlike what Hunter did, Felix cut the white wire shorter on one cable, the black wire shorter on the other, and the red wire in between. Hunter noticed how he twisted the wires together in a more secure manner, making him doubt his own attempt. He saw how the three connection points were staggered, eliminating the risk of short circuiting the cable, and how clean the heat-shrink was applied. Start to finish, Felix Tawny was done in forty seconds flat.
Craig Smith returned with a handy truck loaded with support stands and a ladder. Hunter helped him set up the ladder and prepare the stands. Smith went over to the wall, knelt down, and used a sensor wand, not unlike a stud finder, to locate the hidden fasteners. When he located the first one, he laid the wand on the floor and used an electro-magnetic screwdriver to turn it a half rotation. There was an audible click. He laid the screwdriver on the floor and picked up the sensor wand.
“Ah, Craig,” Hunter whispered, “you need to put those back in your tool belt when you’re not using them.”
“I am using them,” Smith muttered.
“Well, no, I mean, Petty Officer Tawny told me, ‘Tool in hand or tool in belt, no place else.’ He seemed serious about it.”
Smith shook his head in annoyance as he moved up the wall, locating the next hidden fastener, “That sounds like a waste of time.” He laid the wand on the floor again. Hunter just threw his hands up and back away.
Felix walked over, shaking his head and chittering to himself. “No tool on floor,” he declared. “Tool in hand or tool in belt, no place else.” Hunter gave Smith the ‘I told you so’ look. Smith shrugged as he placed the wand in his belt. As soon as Felix turned away, Smith gave Hunter a dirty look. He stood up and continued moving up the wall, unlocking the fasteners.
“Hunter, you measure,” Felix ordered. “Power box there,” he pointed in the corner near the floor, “on off go there,” he pointed to a spot about 1.5 meters up, “then to one, two, three, four sockets for colored lights,” he indicated the locations. “Add one meter for slack, cut cable.”
As Hunter started measuring up the wall, he remembered something from his childhood. “My dad like to build things, you know, woodworking stuff. He always told me, ‘Measure twice, cut once’. I assume it’s the same here.”
Felix squeaked out a happy noise. “Yah-yah. Dad wise. Measure twice, cut once. Good saying. I use now on.” There was a metal-on-metal clank. He turned his head to see Smith had laid the sensor wand down on the ladder step and picked up the screwdriver. “Hey, you no listen. Told you, tool in hand or tool in belt, no place else. That fall, break, you no able to work, job no get done.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Smith grumbled as he put the device back in his tool belt.
Felix shook his head. “No ‘ficient. Have two hands. One tool each hand.” He took the tools from Smith and demonstrated using the wand in his left and the screwdriver in his right, unlocking three fasteners within his reach. He handed the tools back to Smith. “You try.” Smith did as he was instructed and nodded, begrudgingly acknowledging that this method worked better.
Felix returned his attention to Hunter who was in the process of pulling cable off the spool. “Sixteen meters should do it,” he said and began explaining how he arrived at that length when they heard the sound of metal clanking and a bonk followed by a loud slamming noise, then Craig Smith left out a string of cuss words. He was down on one knee, one hand holding the ladder, which was tipped up on two legs, and the other hand holding the top of his head. “You okay, man?” Hunter asked with concern as he steadied the ladder.
“Do I look okay?” Smith snapped. “I was trying to pry the wall panel open and backed into the ladder.” At first, Hunter thought the ladder fell on his friend, but then he noticed the sensor wand laying on the floor, obviously broken. The screwdriver was nowhere in sight. It wasn’t hard to figure out that Smith laid one or both tools on the top step of the ladder, and that’s what hit him on the head.
Petty Officer Felix examined Smith’s head while making chittering noises that sounded like ‘tisk tisk tisk’, reminding Smith of his grandmother whenever he skinned his knee as a kid. “No blood,” Felix announced, “but you see medic, must doc’ment all hurts. Also, safety officer want report, you write.” He pulled out his electrician’s tricorder and scanned the wall. “No damage, fas’ners all locked.” He began to chitter in a very annoyed tone. He faced Smith. “Tool behind wall. Need another tool now.”
Felix walked over to the comm unit on the wall. Hunter looked at Smith. “Tool in hand or tool in belt.”
“No place else,” they both said. “Yeah,” Smith quipped, “I got it. I learned my lesson. I won’t do that again.”
“Until next time. You always had to learn things the hard way,” Hunter pointed out. “Remember back in tenth grade chemistry class?” Smith suddenly found his feet interesting. He looked up at the sound of the door opening, then nudged Hunter with his elbow and lifted his chin to point at the person walking into the room.
Hunter had to do a double take; Smith wasn’t kidding earlier. The basket weave or beehive hairdo was the latest trend, and Petty Officer Shaw had the biggest beehive he’d ever seen on any woman’s head. Most beehives were ten to twelve centimeters high; hers was at least twenty centimeters tall. Hunter wondered how long her hair would be if she let it down. He looked away quickly so she wouldn’t catch him staring at her; that would be awkward.
With a smile that reached her eyes, she asked with a hint of laughter, “What do we have here, little boys who can’t handle their tools?” Her voice carried a soft accent and a musical lilt that convinced Hunter he could listen to her read the dictionary aloud.
Petty Officer Felix’s head snapped up. “Hey, now! Told you before. No more talk like that. Men no allowed, so you no allowed.” The smile disappeared in an instant. “You bring more tools, yes?” She handed him the bag she had slung over one shoulder. Felix retrieved a new sensor wand and screwdriver from the bag and handed them to Smith. “Do again. Do right.” he ordered, pointing at the wall.
Shaw stepped over beside Hunter as they watched Smith begin unlocking the hidden fasteners. Without looking at Hunter, she reached up and began feeling her hair. “Just checking. Did something fall out of place?” she asked him with playful amusement. He turned beet-red with embarrassment. So, she did catch him staring.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “My kid sister is trying that style but can’t seem to get it right.”
“Her hair’s probably not long enough. It has to be at least to her waist to get a decent basket weave going. And I know you want to ask, because everyone wants to ask, how long is my hair? I’ve never cut it since I was seven, so if I don’t put it up I would walk on it.” Her explanation only made him want to ask more questions, like why did she let her hair grow so long in the first place? Was it a religious thing he’d never heard of?
“I’m James, by the way.” He extended his hand.
“Alyssa,” she replied with a little smile, taking his hand. Hunter found her hand was as warm and soft as her voice. She saw Smith was trying to pry the wall panel open. “Ah, you didn’t unlock the ones across the top,” she pointed.
Smith realized that was his mistake the first time, which was why it wouldn’t open for him, but didn’t want to admit it. Without a word, he climbed the ladder and worked his way along the ceiling. A minute later, he climbed down and easily opened the wall. With Shaw’s help, he placed the support stands to keep it upright.
The electricians discovered the old outlet boxes were still in place, but Felix critiqued the wiring job and found it unacceptable. He showed Hunter all the things wrong with it and explained how it should have been done. They had it rewired within ten minutes, while Smith and Shaw moved the panels with the punch-outs to the right level, and then opened the next wall segment. As the electricians moved to that section, the two boatswains closed and secured the first segment. They repeated the process for the third and final wall segment.
When they finished, Felix told Smith to put a single bulb in each socket and flip the switch, confirming the work was done right. “Good work. Now clean up. Put tools away.” Felix announced. He handed the tool bag back to Shaw, “Thank you. You can go now.” He turned back to Smith, “You go see medic when done. Write safety report, give to me in morning.”
As they gathered up everything, Smith said, “Man, I’m starving. Let’s go grab chow.”
Hunter shook his head. “Sorry, I can’t, dude. I have a date,” he replied as he headed for the door pushing the hand truck loaded down with boxes and the table.
Felix let out a noise that could only be laughter. “Smith, you have lot to learn.”
~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~
P.S> You may want to read my not-short story SO CLEVER (link in signature).
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